


What Happens When You Walk In On Your Girlfriend

by MistCover



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Chatlogs, Chatting & Messaging, F/F, Fingerfucking, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Tentabulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistCover/pseuds/MistCover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wow I wrote this for tumblr user momlalonde and it's not NEARLY as smutty as I'd like but I hope you enjoy regardless!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

GA: Rose  
GA: ?

It's been ten minutes and she still hasn't responded. Her icon says her mood is "Chummy", which usually indicates that she'll respond to you within five. You must be getting paranoid, it's only been ten, no, eleven minutes since you sent your message. Maybe she's in the ablution chamber and forgot to log off of Pesterchum before she did. Maybe she fell asleep. 

You could always go looking for her.

Not right now. Not half unsheathed and shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Get it together, Maryam. But you can't get the image of her naked form out of your head, having just an hour before walked in on her naked, preparing to dress for the day. 

Deep breaths. You can do this.

TT: Yes?

Oh fuck no you can't.

GA: I Just Wanted To Apologize For Earlier It Was An Inexcusable Breech Of Your Privacy  
TT: It was an accident. Those happen sometimes. Maybe you've heard of them?  
GA: Only As Events Of Legend  
GA: Not Something That Would Ever Darken My Day  
TT: Of course not.  
TT: But did you like what you saw?

The hiss that escapes from between your fangs is feral. How do you respond to that? Yes makes you a sex-crazed creep. No is an insult to your matesprit. You roll the options over in your head, again and again, trying to formulate something witty in response, absolutely demolishing the rhythm of your banter.

TT: Kanaya?  
TT: Have you perished from the thought of actually appreciating a naked body?  
TT: Are you, right now, swooning back, gasping and trying to contain your shock and horror that a lady may have urges of a sexual nature?  
GA: No No I  
GA: You Took Me By Surprise Is All  
GA: Im Not Gasping But I Feel You May Be

GODAMNIT. 

TT: Soon enough.  
GA: Im Going To Do The Thing You Do  
GA: Ready  
GA: …  
TT: You've kept yourself cloistered away since this morning, what have you been doing in there?  
GA: ...  
GA: More Elipses  
TT: Excuse my slowness, I'm not left-handed. Typing is difficult.

Oh my sweet Mother Grub you are in no way prepared for this, even as you roll out of your skirts even more. The hand that is sent to shove your quickly hardening bulge back down instead is met with the insatiable organ wrapping around your wrist and -oh-. Fine.  
Fine. She wants to play? You'll play.

GA: You Think Far Too Indecent Of Thoughts  
GA: What If I Had Just Been Reading  
GA: What Then  
TT: If?  
GA: Well Obviously Not I Mean  
TT: Tell me what you'd do to me.

Your cheeks couldn't get greener.

TT: Based on what ive read, you do have a phallus of some sort, correct/  
GA: Yes But Its Not Like A Humans  
TT: hwo do you know?  
GA: Your Brother Is A Creature Of Pure Spite  
TT: ohmygod.  
GA: I Could Have You Shouting That  
TT: ??  
GA: Well Its More Like A  
GA: Fuck  
GA: Tentacle Of Sorts

Ok, yes they could.

TT: Suitable for intercouytse?  
TT: untercourse  
TT: Fuck it.  
GA: Why Wouldn't It Be We could make It Work  
TT: Your typing is getti sloppy.  
GA: Forgive Me  
TT: Always and forever.  
TT: And what size apparatus owiuld i be dealing with huere?  
GA: Long enough To Warp rund My Wrist Twice  
TT: Huh.  
GA: But I Also ahvee More Traditional Human anatomy As Well I Mean  
TT: Nothngin but surprises, you are.

You've wormed two fingers into yourself by now, spine arching forward with the unexpected stimulation of it. 

TT: Would you opt ofr that option or would you prefer soething else?  
GA: Your Mouth Is A Lovely Place Rose  
TT: I would loev to tyr that as well as lugbn as you retsyurn the favor.  
GA: LIke All Trolls I Am grraced With A Proportinally Long Tongue  
TT: Oh fuck yejs.  
GA: What Are You IMAginign?  
TT: My legs wraped around yoiur wayst as you drive eeper into me.  
GA: Thats A Lovelt Image  
GA: Ill borrow It ''if You Dont Mind  
TT: Kanaya  
GA: ???  
TT: I lojvrtrtyuyiyuiytrfghb mn,r 6fityh;iupt78 

Keysmashes aside, that particular thought of being root deep in the woman you love most in the world sends you over the edge, clawing into the desk as your entire length ripples and pulses, spilling genetic material onto the floor, onto your shoes.  
It takes you a couple of minutes to realize your husktop is beeping at you.

TT: A particularly satisfying orgasm, if I may say so myself.  
TT: Love?  
TT: Oh, I think I can guess what you're busy with.  
TT: Take your time.  
TT: I can wait.  
TT: Try not to ruin anything though.  
GA: My Shoes  
TT: Fuck.  
GA: Agreed  
TT: Did you enjoy yourself?  
GA: According To The State Of The Carpet I Did.  
TT: True enough.  
TT: Next time one of us catches the other indecent, though, let's not quietly scurry off to masturbate in our respective rooms.  
GA: What Do You Suggest  
TT: ;)

She logs off, and you set to work on salvaging what you can of your shoes.  
The next day, she'll walk in on you, still wet from the trap.  
Neither one of you pretends it wasn't intentional.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time, it's going to be more than Pesterchum.

You had taken your ablution somewhat late that day. Stepping out of the tub, you muss your hair in a towel, minding your horns. In about twenty minutes, Rose is going to expect you in the library, fresh and ready to read the newest chapter of her massive tome. That gives you seventeen minutes to dress, almost exactly. No time to lose, then. 

Towel still around your head, you walk out of your ablution chamber and -oh-.

Rose is sitting on your couch, reading, quiet as a mouse. If you’re honest with yourself, you expected this. Ever since the, ah, invigorating conversation yesterday she has been invading your thoughts, making you unsheathe over and over just enough to cause problems, but not enough to solve them. 

“Did you have a good bath?” She asks, turning a page. You gather your jaw up off the floor and try to chew together a reasonable response. “I would surely hope so. Baths are meant to soothe the spirit and the body. It would be a shame if yours failed in its duty.” She’s not looking at you, she’s not blushing, she’s perfectly calm and collected and why is this beautiful, impossible creature still clothed?

“My Bath Went Very Well Thank You For Asking. May I Inquire As To Why You Are In My Block?” You’re standing in front of her. You’re naked, you’re dripping water down onto the floor and she is sitting there reading like it’s nothing!

“Obscure reasons best left to the mind of their owner,” she counters, closing her book, “you haven’t made a single move to cover yourself.” Violet eyes sweep you up and down, making your skin flare with light. This earns you a smile. “Come and sit with me, if you would be so kind.”

You drift to her side, settling down next to her, towel hanging half off your head. This close, the rapid lub-dub of her blood pusher is obvious to your ears. She’s nervous too. “Excuse Me While I Attempt To Gather My Thoughts. It’s An Incredible Breech Of My Privacy To Come Here Uninvited.” There, take that!

She makes some non committal ‘mmm’ noise, drifting closer to you, nuzzling her nose to your neck. 

Part of you thinks you should kick her out on principle.

A larger part of you knows this was planned. Everything she’s doing is deliberate, calculated and oooh she’s running her mammal tongue up your skin and you puff out air against her scalp. White hands wind behind her back, pulling her onto you, adjusting her until she’s flush to your own body. The first thing you notice is a smear of wetness against your thigh as she moves. The second thing you notice is her mouth pressing on your own, open and sloppy and mostly -hungry-. She’s hungry for you.

Who are you to deny her? 

 

With light fingers, you move her simple dress up and off of her body, breaking the dance of your mouths for just long enough to slip it over her head before diving back into her. She makes a soft little noise when your questing fingers find her... breasts, they’re called? Carefully, with the utmost delicacy, you feel their texture, their heat, rolling the tips against thumb and forefinger and she presses harder against you.

Breaking your kiss, you focus on rolling your tongue down her neck to her collarbone, pricking with fangs just light enough to sting. You’re so close to unsheathing it -hurts- and it takes every ounce of your exceptional willpower to stay put. Not until she says so. Not until she tells you to. Rushing her would be a horrible idea, considering how delicate humans are.

She murmurs something into your horns and grabs your wrist, pulling you hand down, between her thighs.

“What?” You ask.

She presses you against the patch of hair where her legs meet.

Lava would be cooler than this. She is slippery and burning and curiously layered; one set of skin conceals another that conceals another, which in turn conceals her entrance. You take your time exploring her anatomy, nudging her apart with your fingers and feeling up and down the length of her. Rose seems to enjoy it enough, moaning low against you and rocking gently back into your hand as you work her up. It’s fascinating, the ways she is at once so familiar and so alien to you. Fascinating enough that you don’t notice her own hand until it is far too late.

One finger plunges into your nook and you arch forward, bulge whipping out to wrap around her thin, pale wrist, once, twice, almost three times. The human makes a surprised sound and you glow brighter still.

“S-Sorry.” You manage, trying to force yourself back down. No need to give her a crash course in Troll anatomy.

“Don’t be.” She kisses you and starts to move, grinding against your bulge with her arm and thrusting in your nook and that is very, very different but very much okay with you. 

You slip a finger into her and it feels like you were meant to be there, her body opening for you without a hint of resistance. Her near-scream is enough to urge you on, wiggling your finger until she shakes her head and pumps her own finger in and out of you. A demonstration? You try it, a slow thrust, and she bucks against you, adding a second finger to your nook. 

You add a second to hers. It’s like Simon Says for grown ups, you showing her what feels best, the swirls and crooks of your fingers inside of her a roadmap for her to follow on your own. Her own desires seem easy enough to satisfy, with your palm grinding against her sex and the hard nub that tops it, two of your fingers moving in and out, in and out.

The two of you fall into a pattern of thrusting and moving and grinding and panting, the room silent except for the dull noises of skin moving against skin, breath rising and falling in near unison. You follow her hips as her motions become more frantic against you, more needy. Hopefully this means she’s nearing her peak, your own organs screaming for relief, you can’t hold on much longer at this rate, the fingers of this beautiful woman moving inside you, your bulge rubbing up and down her pale skin. Tongues still play against each other, even as you’re both gasping, panting, moving in near discord but still somehow together, the human is moaning louder and louder and you’re about to cum, free hand clinging to the soft couch cushions. 

Rose cries into your mouth, going rigid against you, her fingers pressing almost painfully to the front wall of your nook. It’s the most gorgeous sound you’ve ever heard and your stomach lurches as you near the point of no return. You should really warn her. A first hand look at why you call it ‘pailing’ isn’t on the agenda today no really it isn’t Rose please no you’re about to

“Love, Love Stop I’m About To Stop Rose Please-” she twists her fingers and you are gone.

The first spurt hits her in the stomach, her eyes flying open to look at you as you scramble for control. 

The second string of material pumps through the tip of your bulge, a testament to your failure, and you turn your head away from her, mouth open in a silent scream. This couch is ruined, you think even as orgasm proper wipes your thoughts clean.

When you come to, her thighs and arm are dripping jade, the hand that was inside of you retracting slowly. You flush. You want to hide away, crawl into a hole and pretend you didn’t just cum enough to fill an entire pail on your own onto her soft skin.

The Seer looks intrigued, however, bringing her hand to the light. “Out of all the things I expected, the sheer volume was not one of them. Well done, you’ve shocked me.” She doesn’t seem made. She seems, if anything, spent. You look away, unable to face her.

“I Am Incredibly Sorry About This, Really I Am. Knowing Humans From You And Your Brother I Could Guess You Didn’t Pail Quite Like We Do And Really It Was My Duty To Educate, I Should Have Warned You About The-” Rose cuts you off, pressing one (clean!?) finger to your lips.

“Shhh. It’s fine, love. You did everything to the best of your abilities, and then some.” She smiles and you melt into her, sinking low into the couch. “I think we both may need a bath.” With a wink, she climbs off you, leaving your lap exposed to the cold air. 

The bath was delightful.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually did type the more aroused chatlogs one handed looking away from the screen. In a coffee shop.  
> BLOOD.  
> SWEAT.  
> TEARS.  
> ROSEMARY.


End file.
